


After the Fall

by captain_indigo



Category: Claymore
Genre: Crack and Angst, Gen, Multi, Rated T for language and dead bodies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 11:28:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7932922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captain_indigo/pseuds/captain_indigo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miria took care of Rimuto and the Organization's experiments pretty quickly, don't you think? Perhaps she missed something...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Discoveries

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SilverDagger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverDagger/gifts).



     It was the hottest time of summer. Insects buzzed in the trees, and the air shimmered over the dark rocks, but none of those standing in the courtyard seemed to notice. They stood, still and silent, looking at the wreck of a structure before them. The ground itself was still broken, as though the earth slept only restlessly in this place. The buildings themselves were varied. Some were shattered completely, others almost intact, but most riddled with dark, gaping holes, peering back like eyes at those who gazed upon them.

     "Well, what the hell are we waiting for? No reason to keep hovering here forever." One of the warriors broke the silence, an easy grin across her face. Still, no one moved.

     "Be careful," the leader answered at least. "Some of the rubble will be unstable. Stay in your teams, and stay alert. None of us have any reason to trust this place, abandoned as it may seem. If you see any sign of the yoma that were reported, do not engage them alone. We do not know what bizarre secrets may still be lurking in this place." The spell was broken, and debris crunched under their feet as they moved deliberately towards one of the archways, and vanished into the darkness of the Organization.

  
     The hallway was partially collapsed. They almost missed it, but there was something off that drew their attention. Clare looked at Raki with a shrug, and then ducked under what was left of the archway. Clare couldn't identify the smell, but the air was thick with it. It was the lingering traces of decay, but with something else beneath it that made the hair stand up on the back of her neck. What was waiting for them in these depths? Something jumped in her chest.

     "Clare? What's wrong?" Raki reached out a hand, and she blinked in surprise as he brushed a tear from her cheek. Clare realized she had been standing stock still in the middle of the hallway. What was it? What was calling to her?

     "It's just this place," she sighed. "I keep thinking I sense yoki, but the whole compound is so saturated it's hard to tell."

     "I guess that's what you get from doing so many experiments in one place," Raki muttered.

     "Let's keep going." The air was thick and claustrophobic. Shrouded in darkness, Clare only realized how massive the room was by the echo of her sabatons on the slimy stone as she dropped from the last piece of rubble blocking the corridor. The bones of some horrible creature, or creatures, lay in what she assumed was the center. The pile towered at least thirty feet into the air, several of the bones balanced precariously where they had fallen. It was clear there had been pools of some kind of bodily fluid, but those had evaporated, leaving only a thin layer of green, clinging dust that coated large swaths of the floor.

     Neither of the pair dared break the silence, but instead clasped hands a little tighter as they made their way around the room. There was a change then, ever so slight, just the tiniest breeze blew from the now-clear hallway. For just a moment, Raki sighed, grateful for the fresher air.

     Suddenly, one of the great bones tipped from its resting place, rolling with a thunderous crash down one side and exploding through a wall not twenty feet from where they stood.

     "Clare!" Raki cried, leaping clear of the flying rocks and bone shards. She heard him, and they both landed heavily behind one of the moldering tables. As the cascade of debris that had been dislodged gradually came to a halt, Clare peered over the edge of the table. The feeling of unease was stronger now. Much stronger. The massive chunk of bone had actually taken out a decent hole in the wall, and beyond...a hidden chamber!

     Boxes upon boxes filled the shelves, some only a few inches square, and a few fully the size of a grown adult. Clare climbed gingerly through the hole. The hint of yoki was stronger than ever, her whole body hummed with it. Even Raki was uneasy, though he couldn't sense the energy directly. There was but a single desk in the room, but it looked almost untouched by time. Aside from the gaping hole in the wall, the room had survived unscathed.

     "C-Clare," Raki managed to choke out from examining one of the roughly hewn boxes. "They...it's...they're labeled." Clare moved slowly to look, trying to ignore the roaring in her ears. They _were_ labeled. By year of recovery, by generation, and by name.

_Ophelia._

_Geneveve._

_Juliana._

_Erika._

**_Jean._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot something! Pretty sure this headcanon about the bodies in the basement was [ValensHawke's](/users/ValensHawke/pseuds/ValensHawke) fault. Just saying.


	2. Raki Panics (Crack End)

     Miria's head snapped up to look back the way they had come. Yuma glanced up from the mangled records in her hands.

     "What is it, Miria?"

     "Something is wrong. Damn this background energy, I can't sense yoki much further than I can see." Squinting into the dark doorway behind them, Miria raised her claymore, and then started and rushed forward. "Raki! What's wrong? Where's Clare?" She could see the whites of his eyes glinting back at her from the shadow of the archway where he leaned, panting to hard to answer. How far had he been running?

     "Miria, she's doing it again!"

                                                                           -------------------------------

     Deneve and Helen were waiting in the big central room when Miria, Yuma, and Raki burst into view. They were on their feet in a moment.

     "We were blocked by a cave-in not far down our branch...what's happened?"

                                                                           -------------------------------

     Raki finally pushed his way into the hidden chamber, winded, followed closely by Miria, Yuma, Helen, and Deneve.

     "She just...she just won't stop trying to attach bits of her friends to herself. Is her last name Frankenstein or something? I mean what the heck am I supposed to do about this guys?" Raki groaned, trying futilly to disentangle Clare from Jean's preserved corpse. Clare's face was buried in the crook of Jean's neck, and she was clinging on fiercely with multiple limbs. "Clare. Clare!"

     "You know we don't have last names," Deneve remarked, the corner of her mouth twitching oddly.

     "I know. I know! It was a joke. Could I get some help here?" Miria had not moved from where she stood in the doorway, her face in her hands. If one listened closely, one might have heard mumbled such things as 'I swear to the twin goddesses' and 'why is my life this way,' or possibly even 'Raki if you don't stop shouting in this very unstable and enclosed space you will be joining Jean and Clare in that casket.' Unfortunately, Raki was being to loud for anyone to hear any of this. Deneve and Yuma were very seriously peering into the casket, and assisting Raki as best they could. Helen was leaning heavily against the wall, making a rather impressive assortment of choking noises as she tried to stifle her laughter. The only sign from Clare that she noticed any of this was an extremely muffled 'mmmmMMUUUUHHHH!' every time the group tried to dislodge her. Finally, Miria removed her face from her hands. Rubbing her temples vigerously, she moved to the other side of the casket.

     "You won't be able to seperate them that way," she sighed after a moment. "Helen. Do that thing she hates." Helen managed to contain her laughter, but not her glee as she popped a finger into her mouth. After coating it thoroughly with spit, and with the precision of many years of practice, she poked it straight into Clare's left ear.

     "BleeAAAAHHHH!" shrieked Clare, face finally reemerging from Jean's neck. She threw up her arms, shoving a cackling Helen across the room, and somehow managed to flip herself right off the other side of the casket and into Miria's arms. "Helen! I was having a moment! It was going to be all emotional and everything! I was finally going to get closure!"

     "You weren't answering me! I thought you were like doing that thing where you get absorbed into other things again!" grumbled Raki.

     "For goodness' sake Raki, that was one time!"

     "Let's take the bodies up to the surface. We can have a proper burial, and you can have your closure somewhere that isn't about to collapse on us," Deneve interrupted flatly, hefting Jean's body over her shoulder and starting back towards the hole in the wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, unfortunately half-way through writing this my brain just fuckin jumped the shark. I would like to apologize to everyone involved. Especially Clare. She was just trying to have her goddamn moment. Maybe I'll write the actual ending as chapter 3 later.


	3. Ghosts and Memories (Serious End)

Miria's head snapped up to look back the way they had come. Yuma glanced up from the mangled records in her hands.

     "What is it, Miria?"

     "Something is wrong. Damn this background energy, I can't sense yoki much further than I can see." Yuma nodded her agreement. It was so strong she was having trouble concentrating on their work. Squinting into the dark doorway behind them, Miria raised her claymore, and then inhaled sharply. "Raki! What's wrong? Where's Clare?" She could see the whites of his eyes glinting back at her from the shadow of the archway where he leaned, panting too hard to answer. How far had he been running?

                                                                             -------------------------------

Deneve and Helen were waiting in the big central room when Miria, Yuma, and Raki burst into view. They were on their feet in a moment.

     "We were blocked by a cave-in not far down our branch...what's happened?"

                                                                             -------------------------------

Raki pushed his way back into the lab, running immediately to Clare's side with a groan.

     "It's worse. Both her hands are gone now." He gave another futile tug at Clare's arm, before running his hands through his hair in frustration. He looked up desperately into Miria's eyes. "What do we do?" She didn't answer, but turned to look at Helen and Deneve. The pair had frozen, transfixed by a horribly familiar sight.

Clare's arms were wrapped tightly around Jean's torso, her face buried in the other woman's neck, and her knees rested on either side of the corpse. And a corpse is what it was, for the group could see the gaping wound that remained through Jean's abdomen. All her skin was icy and unnaturally pale. Even worse, they could see that Clare's hands had entirely disappeared into the flesh beneath them. Raki tugged helplessly on Clare's waist, but her knees had already sunk into Jean's thighs like wet clay. Deneve was the first to recover her faculties, stepping carefully over the rubble towards the young man. Her face was grim.

     "She responded to you." Raki stopped pulling on various parts of Clare's body.

     "What?"

     "She responded to you," Deneve repeated patiently. "The only reason we were able to retrieve Clare from the cocoon was because you called to her. Speak to her now." Raki nodded, leaning over till his mouth could reach Clare's ear.

     "Clare? Can you hear me?" Raki whispered. "I know you're in there..."

     "Yuma, try to sense Clare's yoki." Miria said softly. "This place is so saturated with energy it may be useless, but we have to try." Yuma was already more pale than usual, but nodded firmly and closed her eyes.

     "Clare, you've told me what Jean means to you. She brought you back even after you'd given up on yourself. I don't think she'd want this. She didn't save you for this. She saved you so you could live!" Raki's face was pinched, and his eyes damp. His forehead dropped to Clare's shoulder, despite the awkward angle. "I can't lose you again, after all we went through." There was no answer. "Clare, wherever you are, please come back. You said we'd live this path together from now on, and I'm holding you to it. Please..." he trailed off again, unable to continue.

     "I- I think I can sense her, but she- she's-" Yuma's pallor was quickly being replaced by a nasty tinge of green. Miria raised her eyebrows. "It's the background yoki, I can't- " eyes rolling back into her head, she collapsed without warning onto Helen's shoulder. Together, they lowered the unconscious Claymore gently to the floor. Helen looked up at their leader in bewilderment, hoping for an answer. Miria avoided her gaze, eyes fixed on the shallow rise and fall of Yuma's chest.

                                                                             -------------------------------

Yuma blinked, and blinked again. She even reached up to make sure her eyes were really open. It was too dark to tell. The next thing that caught her attention was the cold. The physical cold shouldn't bother her much, her metabolism made sure of that. Why was she shivering? She frowned, and reached out with her senses. At least the oppressive haze of yoki she had felt at the Organization was gone, but it was odd to sense nothing at all. No, it was less than nothing. It was the utter _absence_ of yoki, the lack of any energy signature or life at all. Yuma shivered again. Something was very, very wrong. Where was she? Where were the others? Suddenly she felt a twitch in the back of her mind.

     "Hello? Is someone there?" There was no answer, but incomprehensible whispering began to fill the silence. Yuma reached out with her yoki again, and this time flinched in horror. Where there had been only a void, there was now a _wall_ of presence in every direction. It was similar to the feeling she'd had while they were searching the Organization's buildings, only much, much stronger. It was moving closer, pressing on her mind. The whispers grew, and at last she could distinguish a few voices, all overlapping as they tried to speak.

     "Help..."

     "Help me-"

     "-won't they leave me in peace?"

     "Free us..."

     "Why are they doing thi-"

     "FREE US!"

Against the nebulous mass of yoki closing in, Yuma could finally see the outlines of what was creeping towards her. They were vaguely humanoid, some hunched over, some swaying, some crawling along the ground like wild things. The only features they shared were the multitudes of small grey tubes that protruded from their bodies, dragging along the ground behind them. They crept towards her from all directions, whispering, then hissing, then roaring so loud it seemed to echo, closer, closer, til they were close enough that she could see their faces. Their familiar faces.

The hands that gripped her were cold as the grave, and Yuma screamed.

                                                                             -------------------------------

Clare's stomach roiled as she felt flesh give way under her many-bladed arms.

     "Jean!"

     "Maybe I really died that day, only living on for this moment..." Jean's voice was strangely garbled, like Clare was hearing it from underwater. She didn't have time to reply, before the world started spinning around her. The blurred scenery coalesced into a familiar dungeon, where her arms were wrapped around Jean's neck.

     "Because it's you, I know you can come back!" Clare heard her own words echoing in her ears, as though from very far away. What was happening to her? Everything shifted again, the room seeming to revolve around them. Clare finally closed her eyes and held on, waiting till the nausea had faded to open them again. This time, she was the one who hung in chains.

                                                                             -------------------------------

The icy hands tugged at Yuma harder still, until it felt like they would shake her to pieces. She gasped, her eyes snapping open, and realized that the hands belonged to Helen and Miria, while Deneve appeared to be having a staring contest with her knees. She could feel the other Claymore furiously attempting to return her to consciousness with what yoki manipulation she possessed.

     "Deneve! It worked, it worked. I'm ok." She sighed in relief, her hands moving from person to person, reassuring herself that she was back in the land of the living. "Miria, this place is full of ghosts, we need to leave-" Suddenly, she remembered. "Clare!"

                                                                             -------------------------------

The dungeon was darker than she remembered. Instead of the sounds of battle overhead, it was utterly silent. There was no danger that she could detect, but she could feel her yoki begin to grow. She quickly looked down at her body. Energy rushed down her limbs, uncontrolled and uncontrollable. Her legs lengthened, knee joints turning backwards and skin darkening into a steely carapace. She didn't have to look at her arms to feel them splitting into many. The chains grew as well, shooting out of the darkness to clamp onto each limb as it formed. Panting, Clare closed her eyes and tried desperately to reign in the torrent of yoki that was pouring out of her. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Guilt and fear in equal measure washed over her, settling icily in the pit of her stomach. She knew it was just a relic of her past, she knew to breathe until it had run its course as she had done many times since the Organization fell. She knew all this, but this time nothing worked. She felt her teeth shaping down to points that cut into her lip, and cried out in frustration.

     "Why am I still so weak?" she demanded of the dark empty room. Her whole body sagged, hanging limp against her chains.

     "I would say you've proved your strength many times over." Clare started, rattling the restraints. Jean sat tranquilly on a hunk of rubble, as though she'd been there the whole time. Clare simply stared. Jean wore no armor, but a simple shirt and breeches. Her hair was a bit longer than Clare remembered, still slicked towards the back of her head. "But you know that," said Jean with a smile in her voice. "You forget sometimes, but you do know. So why are you here?"

     "I found your body," Clare mumbled. "The Organization fell, and we were searching the ruins for anything dangerous we might have missed. They had a whole room full of recovered remains. Seeing your...seeing you like that, it all came flooding back." Jean hummed thoughtfully.

     "Clare, do you know where you are right now?"

     "The dungeon, the place I first met you." Clare paused, confused. "No, that's wrong. I'm still in the Organization's lab? So this is in my mind, just as I visited Rafaela's."

     "Indeed," Jean replied with an encouraging nod. "So, now, what am I?"

     "Dead," Clare spat. The chains creaked as her blades flexed against them. Breathe in, breathe out. "You're dead. So this is my memory of you."

     "Yes. And these are strong memories, kept close to your heart. It's no wonder that seeing my body caused this reaction. You always were a bit impulsive." This time Jean really smiled, eyes crinkling up at the corners. The corner of Clare's mouth twitched.

     "Just a bit." She turned her head to look at the limbs sprouting from her shoulders. "I guess this isn't me anymore. When I half-awakened that time, I cared nothing for my own life or death, I only cared about growing stronger in order to carry out my revenge. Maybe I will still remember this body and these chains for a long time, but I'm not the person that I was." Clare turned her gaze to meet Jean's eyes.

     "That is only one of the many things you carry. Teresa's flesh, Irene's arm, Ophelia's hopes, Rafaela's memories...do I need to go on? All this has shaped who you are, and you are so much more than those chains." Finally rising from where she sat, Jean put a hand softly to Clare's cheek. "For you to carry these memories of me is all I could have hoped for. Now return to your friends, and deal with the dead properly. I don't want your last memory of me to be in that gods-forsaken place. Lay me to rest. You already carry several bodies within you, surely you don't need to add another."

Clare laughed, and the spell was broken. The dungeon grew dimmer, and she felt herself floating up and up, focusing on the light above her until the distorted noises became clear. She could feel the ache of her knees against the bottom of the stone slab, and Raki's hands on her shoulders.

     "Clare, you're back!" he cried, as she carefully detached herself from Jean's body. Climbing down from the slab, she smiled up at her friends.

     "I'm back. And I believe I have some promises to keep."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuma is the youngest, but also possibly the most likely to be able to distinguish a single person's yoki. Unfortunately, this place is just full of horrifying yoki ghosts, so that doesn't work out so well. 
> 
> Jean is so dedicated to living 'for humans', I wanted her to wear human clothing, even if she's mainly just a creation of Clare's mind. Also can we make yoki ghosts a thing? If the jedi get force ghosts, clearly we should get yoki ghosts.
> 
> Clare isn't too much older than when the manga ends, but a lot of her dialogue is based on the idea that she's had time to figure out a bit about herself and her past since the Organization fell. Her memories still mess her up sometimes, as they did here, but suddenly finding the corpse of the woman who saved your life will do that to you.
> 
> I did actually proofread this. A little. What happened changed a lot as I wrote, so there were some inconsistencies I had to fix. Also it took me a million years to figure out how to split up the scenes without breaking the mood. Anyway, comments and constructive criticism welcome as always!


	4. Rubel Finally Tells Dae How He Really Feels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crack again. Yes, I do think I'm hilarious, why do you ask? Content warning for Dae being the creepiest fucking guy ever. As usual.

 

"Listen Dae, since we're both about to get murdered by Priscilla, there's something I need to tell you. It's those wigs man. They're pretty fucking weird. I mean, I get it, you don't have the best hair naturally. If it was just the one wig, I wouldn't have a problem with it. It's that giant walk-in closet you have back at the Organization, you probably have like a hundred of the damn things."

"Ah. So you found the closet, did you?"

"Yes I found the closet, you really aren't very subtle about the infinite hair changes and you had to be keeping them somewhere."

"At least I don't get off on being excessively mysterious. Like someone I know. Also I am not going to spend literally my last moments in this life being kinkshamed by you, my dear Rubel."

"I'm a Man In Black. It's practically a job requirement to be excessively mysterious. Shut up. I'm probably going to regret this, but how did you make all those things anyway?"

"...."

"Oh god, you didn't. I was right, I regret this already."

"I...borrowed them. You know. They're dead, they don't need-"

"Priscilla can you please just kill us already?"

 

* * *

 

_Many moons later, Miria is digging through another monotonous pile of rubble in Dae's lab, and finds a hidden door. Prying it open, she peeks inside. She doesn't move or speak for a good thirty seconds. She carefully drags it closed again, and begins piling rocks up around the door._

_"Miria? What did you see?"_

_"Don't ask, Yuma."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Utterly self-indulgent OOC bullshit is my favorite genre of writing. Also fyi, wigs are the best. If you or someone you know has an entire closet of wigs, more power to you. If you took all those wigs from the heads of dead bodies you collected for evil research...I am a little concerned.


End file.
